


poison in my bloodstream

by aerobreaking



Series: hold on, I still need you [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Power Imbalance, Russian Mafia, Tags will be updated as we go along, get on this ride with me i have no idea where it's going, gonna try something different this time around
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:34:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24101401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aerobreaking/pseuds/aerobreaking
Summary: Yuri's mother falls out of favor with Bratva when he's seven. For all intents and purposes, he should've been killed and fed to the fishes but the Nikiforov Boss thought he'd make a great sacrificial pawn. Things complicate when he dies and his estranged son takes his place.
Relationships: Victor Nikiforov/Yuri Plisetsky
Series: hold on, I still need you [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1728439
Comments: 4
Kudos: 52





	poison in my bloodstream

**Author's Note:**

> hello, welcome, i'm glad to have you.  
> This was inspired by a doujin called nutcracker on pixiv. And the idea stuck in my head. So here we are.   
> please enjoy!

When Yuri arrives at the Nikiforov Mansion he’s bound, bruised, and gagged. A woman patches him up but she’s not nice or gentle about it. She throws him in the tub and scrubs his skin raw and his cuts sting but he refuses to cry. His ribs are aching and his eye is swollen shut but no one cares, no one is left alive to care. 

Vasily Nikiforov is not a man to be crossed. His mother had tried and failed and now she was dead because of it. His grandfather too, for trying to hide him. He’d seen when the man had put a bullet through his grandfather’s head and Yuri had lost it, he’d screamed, struggled, and spit on the Boss’ expensive leather shoes. Unfortunately for him—or fortunately, it depends on who you ask and _when_ you ask—the man hadn’t been the least bit offended.

_“What feisty thing you are,”_ He’d said, smiling and looking at Yuri as though he was nothing more than dirt on the bottom of his shoes, “ _I like that in a child.”_

He’s not killed but he is punished for the disrespect. 

The next day after his arrival his training starts. He learns how to fight, how to handle knives, how to hold a gun and kill a man. He learns about the Nikiforov family and their enemies and allies and the territory they control. He is educated and made to understand that his life is not his anymore—it belongs to Vasily Nikiforov. 

Yuri is dressed in expensive clothes and trails after Boss Vasily everywhere he goes. He poses as Vasily’s nephew but what he really is a killer, a spy, a witness. Anything Vasily wants him to be. 

He looks like a child but knows no innocence. His hands are stained with too much blood and the men under Vasily all know he’s a deadly little thing that has no heart or conscience. He comes to be Vasily’s favorite bodyguard and the older man treats him like a son. Though it might be because his own son doesn’t show him any love.

Yuri has met the Nikiforov heir a few times, he’s not very involved in his father’s business but Viktor knows the world, he grew up in it, and from what Yuri’s heard, he had the potential to be _better_ than his father. But he wanted his freedom and his father could not stop him. 

In the eyes of many, Viktor is a frivolous, immature, vapid man but there are moments when his blue eyes narrow and they look like ice. And Yuri knows he is not kind, no matter how hard he pretends to be. He has the demeanor of a wolf in sheep’s clothing and nothing can disguise the eyes of a killer and the scent of death that trails him. 

When he’d first seen Yuri he’d raised an eyebrow and asked his father, “Taking on charity cases now?”

Yuri had wanted to bare his teeth but Vasily had answered as he patted Yuri’s head, “Something like that.”

When Yuri is thirteen, dementia sets into Vasily and breaks his mind apart. Viktor is called back to the mansion and he takes over his father's affairs. For all the freedom Viktor claimed he wanted he sure falls into the roll easily. He stands tall and his eyes do not falter when some of their allies try to oppose him. He does not back down from defending his right to the position his father can no longer occupy. Yuri would be impressed if he didn’t already know Viktor was a ravenous beast that had coveted his father’s position but despised being told what to do.

Yuri stays with Vasily in the mansion as his only protection as Viktor travels Russia and beyond to establish his upcoming regime. In the meantime, Yuri takes advantage and Vasily indulges his requests to let him ice skate.

“Sure, Vitya,” He says, probably so fucked up in the head he can’t distinguish Yuri from his memory of a younger Viktor. But Yuri doesn’t care about being confused with someone else, not if he gets what he wants. He skates and he’s good, gets better, and he participates in some local competitions and wins. He’s even approached by a coach that talks him into seriously considering skating at a more competitive level. 

But he’s going to need money for that—and permission. He supposes its time. 

The thing is—Yuri has not forgotten. He will never forget and he will never forgive. He can play the role of Vasily’s dedicated servant but he hates the man with every fiber of his being and the only reason he’s stayed—the only reason he acted like a good dog on a leash—was because this was the fastest way to get close, the fastest way to get _personal_.

When Vasily is in his death bed, he gets a moment of clarity because he looks from Viktor to Yuri as they watch him, his eyes are tired. Resigned.

“Take care of Yuri, Vitya.” He mumbles, “Promise me.”

“Of course,” Viktor promises, looking at Yuri with narrowed eyes.

Yuri doesn’t meet his gaze, mostly because he probably wouldn’t be able to hide his delight at seeing Vasily _finally_ dead. He wears glasses at the funeral and keeps a straight face, pretending to mourn the man that took everything from him when all he wants to do is spit on his grave.

“Boss Nikiforov wants to talk to you,” Mila says later that night when they’ve returned to the mansion. “He said to meet him in his office.”

Yuri raises an eyebrow, “About what?”

Mila shrugs, unbothered, “Beats me.”

He huffs, wondering if maybe the older man had caught on to the dangerous game he was playing. He knocks on the mahogany door that led to the study and waits for permission to enter. It’s a little weird now—before he didn’t need permission, he didn’t need to act like he was a stranger in this house that had practically become his home. But now Vasily was gone and that meant he no longer had a place to belong and that was perfectly fine with Yuri. 

“Come in,” He hears Viktor say a few seconds later.

He opens the door and slips inside, closing it quietly behind him. He goes to stand before the desk and asks, “You called for me?” 

Viktor hums as he ransacks his father’s desk. There are papers and books littered all over the floor and the silver haired man flips through the paraphernalia as if it were trash. He seems to be stuck in his own world despite the fact that Yuri is standing before him like an idiot. He resists the urge to roll his eyes because he really doesn’t want to get into it with the new Nikiforov boss. 

He waits for Viktor to address him but the man continues shuffling papers and Yuri’s patience is really starting to wear thin. He clears his throat and Viktor pauses and looks up, “Oh,” He says, as if barely registering Yuri’s presence, “Sorry, did you need something?”

Yuri purses his lips and swallows down an insult, “You…wanted to talk to me?”

He blinks, and thinks, then a lightbulb goes off, “Oh! Yes! I remember now.” He stands from Vasily’s chair and comes around the desk to stand in front of him. Yuri almost has half a mind to take a step back. Viktor towers over him and though he looks unthreatening with his charming smile—Yuri knows not to trust him. 

Viktor asks, “How old are you?”

Yuri clenches his jaw and through his teeth says, “Fourteen.”

“Ah, to be so young.” He smiles, then his eyes narrow, “So, how did you do it?”

Yuri’s eyebrows quirk, playing dumb, “Do what?”

In the next moment, Viktor has him caged between his body and the desk, Yuri’s breath stutters and the hair the back of his neck stands on end. “Now, now,” Viktor tries to comfort, “Don’t think I’m trying to be mean but I know it was you.” His blue eyes bore into Yuri’s green ones, “The old man was going insane but was otherwise healthy, kinda funny that he died so weak and so soon.”

“Are you trying to imply I did something?”

“I _know_ you did.”

“I think you’re reaching for something that’s not there.”

“And I think you’re under the impression that just because he’s dead you’re free.”

Yuri swallows, but his voice is like steel, “I _am_ free.”

“No, you’re not. You don’t belong to him anymore, now you belong to _me_.”

“I do not,” Yuri spits, done playing nice. “I belong to no one.”

“Yes, you do. And let me warn you,” Viktor’s voice drops so low Yuri feels it down to his very bones, “If you so much as step foot out of this mansion without my permission I will have every faction in this country looking for you and I will let everyone know you’re responsible for Vasily’s death. And you know what we do to traitors, don’t you?” His breath tickles Yuri’s neck as he sweetly says, “I will break every _single_ bone in your body and feed you the cat you seem to love so much.”

A tense beat of silence passes and then Viktor leans back, his charming smile back of his face, “Now then, I think that’s enough for today.” He turns away and Yuri’s fingers itch to pull the knife strapped to his back and kill this bastard right now—but he knows he can’t. He knows Viktor is faster, better—stronger. “I’ll see you later, little Yura.”

The anger burns deep in his soul, so deep and so brutal he thinks he might actually do something stupid, like try to kill Viktor in his sleep but he takes his anger out in the training room. When he’s cooled down and is able to think clearly he remembers the way Viktor had looked at him and realizes that maybe this isn’t a bad situation to be in. If he can find something to dangle in front of Viktor’s face as bait, then he wouldn’t hesitate to use it to his advantage. 

So he begins to observe the older man more closely and realizes that yes, he has something to entice him with. So he dresses himself up nicely, stains his lips with color, and walks into Viktor’s office like he owns it. The Boss looks up as soon as he comes in, his face set into a scowl that slowly falls into amusement when he looks at Yuri’s determined face. 

“You should knock before you come in, I might’ve been busy.”

Yuri walks around the desk, ignoring him, and takes a seat on it, right in front of Viktor. “I want to ice skate professionally,” He says, his voice leaving no room for argument. “It’s expensive, so I’ll need money.”

Viktor leans back on his chair, looking at him with a raised eyebrow, “You’re making some pretty impressive demands for someone without any leverage.”

“I do have leverage,” He says hauntingly, “I can do _whatever_ you want.”

“Whatever I want?”

Yuri rolls his eyes, “I see the way you look at me, I’m not stupid.”

Viktor huffs a laugh, he slowly trails his eyes from the top of Yuri’s head to his feet and Yuri really, _really_ does not like the look in his eyes. “Ahh, well, it’s nice to know you’re observant but you’re still a little young for my tastes.”

“I’m too young to fuck but old enough to kill a man.” Yuri says, casually, “So that’s the type of moral compass you have.”

Viktor laces his fingers together, “A Russian Roulette, wouldn’t you say?” Yuri doesn’t answer him and he continues, “But, you do make a tantalizing offer and I know Vasily kept you guarded from that type of work…” He runs his eyes down his face again, as if daydreaming about what he would become, “I’ll make you a deal, you can skate for two years, but afterward, you return to me. No complaints.”

“Six years.”

“Five.”

“Four.”

Viktor pauses and thinks it over and nods, “Four years, but the moment you turn sixteen you begin to pay your debt.”

Yuri rolls his eyes, of course he’d wait for the consensual age, he hops off the desk, “Great doing business with you.”

“Bye-bye, little kitten,” Viktor waves as he leaves his study, “I’m looking forward to seeing you on the ice.”

Yuri flips him off. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading, I'd appreciate it if you gave feedback!


End file.
